Chilly Down
by Baby-Cellophane
Summary: Complete! R&R, but go easy on the flames. A possible X3 (so spoilers for X1 & X2); the Brotherhood's back, and their new member's revenge isn't going too well.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
This story was inspired by the films "X-Men" and "X2: X-Men United" (beware, some spoilers).  
  
The author did not create the X-Men and does not wish to take credit for creating the X-Men.  
  
This story has been given a PG-13 rating for language, violence, and slash.  
  
AND THERE'S A RIDDLE IN HERE:  
  
There are many fictitious organizations mentioned in the following story. One of these names is linked indirectly with the title of the story - "Chilly Down." Can anyone guess what the link is? 


	2. And So It Begins

Jeremy and I celebrated the one-year anniversary of my departure from the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants over a cigarette and a bottle of gin. It would have been perfect if it hadn't been raining so hard; the cigarette refused to stay lit and the gin was getting watered-down faster than we could drink it (scratch that - faster than he could drink it, I have a weak liver). But all in all, it was still a good night. It was cool and clear, despite the rain, and we were alone for the most part. The rest of the gang had gone into Manchester in search of dryness, warmth, alcohol, and women. Emphasis on the women - they were all hanging out in seedy bars or strip clubs, shoving crumpled bills into some hussy's g-string, thinking that Jer and I were queers.  
  
That can only be said about Jer, though; I'm just not interested in hookers. I gave up on the idea of casual sex when things between Jenny and myself got serious. Unfortunately, right as that was happening, the Brotherhood sent me on a kamikaze mission and, after being revived by a certain blue tramp I used to work with, I was sent back to England to lay low for a while.  
  
Though one could hardly consider my current activities 'laying low.' Shortly after arriving in London, I was attacked by a group of mutant bikers called the Fire Gang (don't worry, one of them was sober enough to be able to tell that I wasn't a human, and, after I told them my story, they let me join). The Fire Gang and I tore through England, striking fear in the hearts of normal humans and causing trouble. I joined for companionship; I didn't want to be alone. Or, rather, I didn't want to be separated from Jenny; I wanted to bring her with me. But that didn't quite pan out - the aforementioned blue tart decided that the Brotherhood needed for Jenny to be in America and for me to be in Europe. It sounded like a load of bull to me at the time, but I had no say in the matter.  
  
Anyhow, it had been a year since the mission that had nearly killed me (and landed Magneto in prison and put Sabertooth in a coma and left the blue tart in charge) and Jeremy and I were passing a soggy cigarette back and forth. Not a bad way to spend the evening; not a good way either. I missed Jenny, and was considering riding into Manchester in search of a payphone, but another bike appeared on the road.  
  
Jer and I stood up, tossing the cigarette aside. The bike came to a stop, though, as if the rider knew that we were there and wanted to talk to us. Jer and I approached slowly; Jer was swinging a chain and I had my switchblade ready. The rider dismounted, and, to my shock, it was someone I knew - the blue tart.  
  
"Mystique?" I had to be sure it was her, but how could it not be? The blue skin, yellow eyes, red hair . . . it just added up to Mystique.  
  
"Mortimer Toynbee, so good to see you." Her voice was cold as ice and she was leaning on her bike. It was a sleek machine, jet black with chrome wheels. "And who's tall dark and handsome, here?" she was eyeing Jer, which made both of us laugh because he's 'queer as a three-dollar- bill' (a little saying he says he picked up back when he lived in San Francisco).  
  
"Jeremy," he said at length, "Jeremy Jones. And you would be . . . ?"  
  
"Mystique. I work with the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants."  
  
"And what brings you out to England?"  
  
"Mortimer is needed," she said coldly, glancing at me.  
  
"Why am I needed?"  
  
"Eric's busted out of prison, Sabe's woken up, we have some new recruits, and our latest scheme failed," she said. "That and we've sent Jenny on a mission, which she's failing."  
  
She'd said the magic word - Jenny. I missed her so much; it's indescribable, really. I'd always sort of taken her for granted, I suppose, and I'd treated her like trash at times. I'd hit her a few times, usually after I'd been drinking. We'd had our share of arguments; she'd called me a 'sadistic fuck' and threatened to leave me on more than one occasion. But she never did. I think that was what tipped me off, made me realize that maybe I'd found 'the one.' The ever-elusive 'one' - that person who loves you no matter what and won't leave you for anyone or anything. We'd made a breakthrough, or so I'd felt; I'd agreed not to hit her or treat her bad and she'd . . . well, agreed to stay, and things were going to be happy. And then I'd been sent on that stupid mission that had failed so miserably. I hadn't seen her since. Did she still want to be with me? Was she seeing someone else? Damn, it had a been a year, a full year.  
  
"How is she?"  
  
"She's going soft," said Mystique, spitting the words out like acid. "We sent her in to kill the X-Men and she's on the verge of joining them."  
  
"What?"  
  
It wasn't making sense; you didn't just send someone in to kill the X- Men. In fact, you didn't just go after the X-Men, they weren't the real enemy. Humanity was the enemy. You killed humanity; the X-Men were our brothers-in-denial, thinking that we could all get along peacefully, never knowing what it's really like to be shunned by human society. Sure, they were sided with the enemy, in fact, they were protecting the enemy, but they were not the enemy. They were mutants, and therefore on our side. And even if the Brotherhood wanted to send someone in to destroy them, it wouldn't be Jenny.  
  
Jenny wasn't a trained fighter. Sure, she was wild and feral and could be violent if she wanted to be, but she wasn't able to take on the X- Men. Unlike the common man's conception of mutants, Jenny did not have "powers." She just looked like a freak; a beautiful freak. She looked a bit like a were-cat, if such a thing existed. A humanoid body with certain feline characteristics, like fur, fangs, claws, a tail, and ears. She looked a bit like a small, less-hairy female version of Sabertooth, but I never really viewed her that way. She was Jenny; her code name suited her well, as it fit her physical appearance and the way she sometimes acted in bed - Wildcat. Or sometimes if was Hellcat, whichever one she was in the mood for.  
  
"We sent her to kill an X-Man," said Mystique, strangely calm. That was one of her more annoying characteristics; she was always so damn calm. "It shouldn't be hard to do, they've taken her in, but she's just not killing."  
  
"Wait, you sent Jenny in to kill an X-Man?"  
  
"Wasn't hard to convince her. She thinks you're dead," continued Mystique, examining her nails. "Damn! I broke a nail."  
  
"What?"  
  
Jenny thought I was dead? No one had told her that I was alive? No, no, this wasn't right. It wasn't right at all! I could feel my body shaking, and Jer put his hand on my shoulder to keep me from tipping over. Had someone failed to tell Jenny that I was alive, or were they deceiving her? Did someone tell her that I was dead?  
  
"We said you were dead and she immediately set off to avenge your death."  
  
Oh God, I thought, this can't be happening. Mystique had intentionally sent Jenny out to kill Storm - Storm of all X-Men! Storm, who had nearly killed me, who'd been so close to sending me to a watery grave, who was almost as all-powerful as God Himself. Storm would fry Jenny if she hadn't already done so. Oh God, I prayed, please don't let her kill Jenny.  
  
"Jenny's still alive," said Mystique, as if reading my thoughts, "she's just being a pussy." She laughed at her double entendre - or maybe it was a triple entendre: she'd made a crack about Jenny's cowardice while referring to her as a part of the female anatomy, a word which was also English slang for 'cat', which Jenny strongly resembled.  
  
"Why does she think I'm dead?" I asked.  
  
"Because I told her you were."  
  
"Jesus Christ, why the bloody fuck did you tell her I was dead?"  
  
"God, Mort, are you stupid or something? If she knew you were alive, she'd never knock Storm off. It's not like she's moved on or anything; she wears your clothes and talks about you like you were a god."  
  
I was slightly comforted by the fact that Jenny hadn't found herself a new man. Slightly. I was angry as hell at Mystique for being such a lying tramp. That bitch. She really didn't care about other people's lives, did she? I suddenly wondered what her reaction would be if Eric suddenly died, or she thought he suddenly died. Would she cry? Would she swear to avenge him? Would she cuddle up with a new man? Would she forget?  
  
"Jesus, that was a trashy thing to do," said Jer.  
  
"That's besides the point," said Mystique. "Mortimer is needed in America."  
  
I wanted so badly to rebel against her and refuse to go, just to spite her. Unfortunately, my desire to see Jenny was stronger than my desire to make Mystique's carefully laid plans fail, so I agreed to go. I said goodbye to Jeremy, hugging him tight, and left. Mystique shook her head, probably calling me a queer under her breath, as we got on her bike and tore off into the rainy darkness, heading for London.  
  
Sometimes I think I might be kind of queer.  
  
I won't lie about it; I experimented with Jeremy a few months after joining the Fire Gang. The gang had set up camp on a rural back road a few miles north of Kent, and had decided to go into town to fulfill certain heterosexual testosterone-driven urges. Jer never went on these excursions, and I was feeling particularly homesick and was missing Jenny. Jer and I fell to talking (and I'm not going to lie here either, we were completely sober); well, it was really mostly me talking about how much I missed Jenny and him listening. At some point we both mentioned being horny, and then we kind of stared at each other. I won't go into detail, but I'm sure the rest of the Fire Gang would be more than disgusted if they knew what we did.  
  
Much later, I sat in a seat by a window next to Mystique. She was reading a magazine and had disguised herself as a pretty blonde. I was thinking about Jenny, wondering if she'd recognize me, how she'd react when she saw me. I wondered if I should tell her about Jeremy. I knew that I had to; before my "death" we'd promised that we wouldn't keep secrets from each other, but I was afraid of how she'd take it. Yes, it had been an infidelity on my part, and yes, I was sorry about it to a certain extent. I didn't really regret doing it, which I found strangely discomforting. I was still wondering what I should do when the plane landed in New York City. Mystique and I emerged from the plane, and it took us a while to get a cab.  
  
"I don't normally drive muties around," said the cabbie who finally pulled over and let us in. He was looking at me cautiously, as if I'd pull a knife on him. And, to tell the truth, if I hadn't left my knives back in England with Jeremy, I would've been tempted to. Mystique glared at him, giving him directions to the Brotherhood's nearest headquarters.  
  
He didn't seem to register that Mystique was a mutant too; no, she was far too pretty to be a 'mutie' (you knew you were in America when they called you a 'mutie'). It was me, the green-skinned frog-boy, he felt he had to worry about. I didn't care; I wanted to see Jenny and then get back to England. The jet-lag was catching up with me, though, and I fell asleep in the back of the cab. When I woke up, it was four in the morning and Mystique was ramming her elbow into my ribcage. I stumbled out of the cab, thanking the driver, and into the harsh stone building that Magneto and the rest of the Brotherhood occupied.  
  
"I've arranged for Jenny to come here tonight," said Mystique. "You should get some sleep."  
  
I made my way down the darkened corridors to where my old room had been. I didn't bother with the light-switch; I could find my bed in the dark, and even if I couldn't, I didn't mind sleeping on the floor. I hadn't slept or been in a bed in a year; the Fire Gang spent its nights curled up or passed out on the ground on England's back-roads. Luckily, though, I managed to locate it, and collapsed, falling back into dreamland the minute my head hit the pillow.  
  
I dreamed. The dreams were hazy and nebulous, and all that really mattered about them was that they featured both Jenny and Jeremy. They were anxious dreams, dreams of uncertainty and fear and something intangible. It was after three when I woke up.  
  
The building was nearly deserted; on stepping into the hall I was introduced to the Brotherhood's newest member - a little pyromaniac named John - and was reunited briefly with Sabertooth and Magneto. I showered, changed, shaved, and sat around in my room, asking myself an endless string of questions about Jenny.  
  
Was she different? Did she change? Did she have a new man? Even if she didn't, would she still want me? How would she react when I told her about Jeremy? Should I tell her about Jeremy? Would she break up with me? Would she want to return to England with me?  
  
I tried to shake the questions off by pacing back and forth. I found that my things hadn't been touched, and was oddly disturbed. It was like the Brotherhood had anticipated and planned for my return. Everything was there, covered in an inch or so of dust - knives, spikes, chains, a set of handcuffs, a gun (you have to understand that these were not kinky bedroom toys - well, maybe the handcuffs were - but things I used as weapons when embarking on missions). Most of my clothing was missing, which bothered me slightly until I remembered that Mystique had said something about Jenny wearing them. I was able to find a clean shirt, though, and a black vest. 


	3. And So It Continues

As midnight approached, I filled the vest's pockets with various weaponry. I'd been attacked by random human gangs in New York on multiple occasions and found that it paid to carry something sharp. I didn't really need the knives; the Brotherhood had trained me in martial arts, and I was a black belt. I just liked it. It was probably the sadist in me that liked the thrill of pulling a knife on some human punk who'd thought he might have a little 'fun' kicking the crap out of a mutant. I stared at the gun for a long time before deciding to load it and take it with me. Something deep inside was telling me that it would be needed. It was one of those gut feelings, one of those things you never question but listen to because it was always right.  
  
I started to get the feeling that something was wrong - really wrong - when I stepped out into the hall and found the only other person in the building besides myself was the new member, the pyromaniac. He was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and playing with a lighter.  
  
"Where is everyone?" I asked.  
  
"Mystique went out to get Jenny," he said, getting up and going over to the coffeemaker, "you want some?" he asked, picking up the coffee pot.  
  
"Sure."  
  
He started to pour the thin black liquid into a mug. "Magneto's at a Brotherhood meeting with Sabe," he continued.  
  
"Why aren't you there?"  
  
He shrugged. "You want cream or sugar?"  
  
"No thanks."  
  
He handed me the mug and sat back down. I looked up at the clock, seeing that it hadn't moved much, and put the mug to my lips. I knew the instant my tongue hit the liquid that it had been tampered with - it tasted bitter and acidic, kind of like Valium or Aspirin when you chew it up instead of swallowing it - and spat it out onto the kitchen floor. The kid jumped.  
  
"What's in the coffee?" I asked, rising and approaching him, kicking my chair aside. What was the little brat trying to do, and why was he trying to do it?  
  
"Nothin." But his eyes were wide with fear, and if he'd been telling the truth, he would've had nothing to fear. I grabbed him, jerking him out of his chair and holding him by the collar of his shirt. I moved quickly, causing him to drop his lighter. I kicked the thing aside; the kid was powerless now. He could control fire, control it pretty damn well, but he couldn't create it.  
  
"Answer my question. What's in the coffee?"  
  
"Valium!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Look, I don't know what it's about! Mystique said to knock you out - "  
  
"Where the hell is she?" I somehow wasn't surprised that that tramp was behind this. Her schemes were always unnecessarily elaborate and slightly sadistic. She was up to something that somehow involved me and Jenny. The kid shook his head, and, in turn, I shook him. "Answer me, you bastard."  
  
"In some room down the hall, with Sabe and Magneto and some girl."  
  
"Some girl?" Jenny? "You see this girl?"  
  
"Only a picture."  
  
"What'd she look like?"  
  
"Kinda like a cat . . . I don't know."  
  
"What room are they in?"  
  
"Magento's office, I think."  
  
I put him down. "Do yourself a favor, kid. Drink my coffee." And I saw him do it out of the corner of my eye as I left the room, heading down the hall to the cold metal office that was the base of all of Magneto's operations. I knew that the door would be locked before I even got there - these people were trying to keep me away from Jenny, though they weren't doing a very good job. I was beginning to doubt that it was part of Mystique's plan; she was meticulous, and would have had the kid slip me roofies or date-rape drugs instead of Valium. Those other drugs didn't have a taste to them; if they'd been in my coffee, I would've been out cold. I couldn't help but wonder why they'd even called me back to the States. I hadn't done or been asked to do anything useful (except maybe test the kid's drug-slipping skills, and he failed horribly).  
  
I paused outside the door, preparing to kick it open. It was pretty thick and heavy; I was unable to hear anything that was happening on the other side, aside from what sounded like a muffled roar (Sabertooth). I closed my eyes, bracing myself, and leapt at the door, hitting it dead-on. The door swung open, which surprised me. That didn't surprise me nearly as much as what was on the other side, though.  
  
Jenny was the first one I saw. She was kneeling on the floor about four feet from Magneto's desk. Her head was down, and her hands were tied behind her back. Her hair was different; it was cut boyishly short and, in addition to being dyed black, was spiked. She turned her head towards me, responding to the sound of the door being kicked in, and squinted. Her glasses were lying on the ground beside her, intact and goggle-like. There were three small, line-like scars on her left cheek, below her eye, and it looked like they'd been there for a while. They certainly hadn't been there the last time I'd seen her, but they weren't my main concern. My main concern was the bleeding gash in her forehead and the two black eyes.  
  
Sabertooth was standing over her, holding a long metal bar. There was blood dripping off of the bar, splashing quietly onto the floor. Magneto was seated at his desk, leaning back and watching the proceedings as calmly as one would watch a movie. Mystique was perched seductively on the edge of his desk, her eyes hooked on Jenny. She was grinning.  
  
"Mortimer?" Jenny's voice was soft and kind of frightened. It was as though she wasn't sure that she was seeing me, or maybe she thought that she was hallucinating, because she looked back at Magneto for confirmation of my presence.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" I demanded.  
  
"Jenny here is thinking of joining the X-Men," said Mystique.  
  
"And she's failing her mission," added Sabertooth. Jenny was staring at me again. To her, everything was blurry without her glasses, and she probably couldn't tell who I was.  
  
"I can do it," said Jenny. Her voice sounded thick, as though she was having trouble moving her mouth. I saw a thin line of blood trickle down her chin as she spoke. "I just need more time . . . "  
  
"That's bull and you know it - "  
  
"Ram it, Mystique." I pulled out my gun, forgetting in my anger that Magneto could just take it away from me with a flick of his wrist. I wanted to fire a thousand bullets into them, all three of them, for what they'd done to Jenny. First they'd deceived her to get her to go on a suicide mission, and now they were beating her.  
  
"Put the gun down, Mortimer," said Magneto calmly, and I put it away, but not before I got between Sabertooth and Jenny. "This is merely a form of discipline."  
  
"You're a bunch of sick fucks," I shouted, "why the hell did you even drag me back here?"  
  
"Well, it was in the original plan," said Mystique, "but once I found out that your bitch was going to join the X-Men, the plan changed."  
  
"I'm not gonna!" cried Jenny, her eyes brimming with tears.  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
I turned away from Mystique and Magneto and picked up Jenny's glasses, sliding them onto her face. She blinked, her eyes widening. She stared at me open-mouthed, and tears began to spill down her cheeks.  
  
"Mortimer? Is that really you?"  
  
"Yeah, Jenny. It's me."  
  
"But . . . oh my God, you're . . . Mystique said . . . " her voice trailed off, and she leaned forward. "But I saw it happen."  
  
"I survived," I said, kneeling in front of her and pulling a switchblade out of my vest. I was cutting her bonds, when I heard the explosion. I looked up in time to see a large red beam shoot through the air and hit Sabertooth in the chest. He fell back, growling in pain, and I heard Mystique and Magneto rising, preparing to fight off the intruding X- Men.  
  
Cyclops was blocking the doorway, trying to hit Mystique with his eye- lasers and failing. I could just barely see Storm behind him; the light bounced off of her silvery hair eerily. I put the knife away and scooped Jenny up into my arms. I'd nearly died fighting the X-Men, and wasn't willing to lay down my life for the Brotherhood, so I darted toward the window.  
  
My mutation enables me to stick to walls and other surfaces, thanks to a slime that my hands secrete, so the fact that there was no fire escape did not stop me from fleeing with Jenny. I was able to stop long enough to fully release her from her bonds, but I had no real idea of where we could run to. I looked around, trying to get my bearings; I'd only been gone a year.  
  
"The Red District," said Jenny suddenly. "We can go there."  
  
"The Red District?"  
  
"It's run by the Hellfire Club," she said, taking my hand. "And Emma Frost owes me." She smiled briefly, then began to run, pulling me along with her.  
  
I was hoping that we were out of the woods; surely the X-Men had a bone to pick with Magneto and not us, but I was wrong. The X-Men were chasing us, hollering at Jenny to stop running, that they would help her, that they didn't want to hurt her, and the rest of the bull.  
  
"Down here!" cried Jenny, leaping into an open manhole and beckoning for me to follow. I had no real choice; it was either join my girlfriend in the sewer or get myself killed for real by the X-Men. I dove in after her, making sure to close the opening. We stood there in the darkness, panting and waiting for our eyes to adjust. "So," said Jenny after a while, "Mystique lied to me about you."  
  
"Yeah." I made my way to her, groping in the darkness until I felt my fingertips brush against the soft gray fabric of the shirt she was wearing. For a moment, we stood like that, barely touching, then she turned to me and fell into my arms. She pressed herself against me, and I found myself on the verge of tears.  
  
"Oh God," she whispered, "I don't know what to say. I . . . I'm just so glad you're alive."  
  
"I missed you so much, Jenny. You have no idea - "  
  
It was truly a perfect moment, despite the fact that we were in a sewer, and it was ruined very suddenly.  
  
"Dammit, she should be right here!" Cyclops' voice came from above us, and I could feel Jenny's head turn upward.  
  
"You sure you're reading that thing right?" Wolverine was with him. Fuck.  
  
"Yeah, we're right where she should be."  
  
"Maybe something's wrong with the equipment." And Storm was there too. Bloody fuck.  
  
"Shit," whispered Jenny, trembling slightly. "They've got a tracking device on me. Shit."  
  
"Vhat if she's under us?" This was a new voice: a grown man with a strong German accent. And he was right on the money in regards to our location. Jenny and I didn't stick around long enough to find out if they were planning to check it out; Jenny must've gotten familiar with the sewer system after my "death," because she led us right to the center of the Red District.  
  
"Up here - " she was pointing to a ladder " - this should put us in the Red District, near Emma's apartment." I climbed the ladder first, shoving the heavy metal disk aside and emerging from the stinking hellhole that is New York's sewer system. I helped Jenny out. She paused, looking around to get her bearings and make sure the X-Men weren't on our tails. We seemed pretty well-hidden, being smack dab in the middle of a sea of New York's lowest members of society; hookers, hustlers, pushers, the homeless, pickpockets - mutant and human alike. Some people say that Greenwich Village is the only place in New York where mutants and humans coexist peacefully, but those are only people who've never been to the Red District. Jenny pointed up at a nearby fire escape, and began to climb it.  
  
"Emma's apartment is the third window up," she called down. I followed her wordlessly, wondering how the hell she knew this.  
  
Jenny reached Emma's window, rapping on it with her knuckles and looking around. She was checking the sky for Storm, and I knew that she was terrified. It would be easier to see her up here where she couldn't hide behind a crowd. Finally, the window opened and Emma Frost stuck her head out.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. Needless to say Jenny and I did not smell like a bouquet of roses; that's what happens when you run through the sewers. "And aren't you supposed to be dead?" Emma was colder than Mystique, more sarcastic, and harder to surprise.  
  
"Emma, you gotta help me." Jenny shoved her aside, climbing into the apartment, pulling me in after her. She moved away from the window. "The X-Men are after me. They've got a tracking device of some kind on me - "  
  
"You have a bug on you and you came here?" screamed Emma. "Holy shit!" She immediately closed the window, drawing the shade. She turned back to us, brushing her long blonde hair out of her eyes. "Quick, strip."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Take your clothes off and do it fast. If the X-Men find out where I live - "  
  
"Relax, Emma," said Jenny, peeling her shirt off and tossing it to the floor. "Cain'll take care of them for you."  
  
I was about to ask who Cain was when he entered the room. He was tall, maybe six feet (minimum), and had blonde hair. In addition to being insanely tall, this gent was also very muscular, the kind you see in ads for various body-building equipment. It was a clean sort of muscularness, though; his bare arms held no needle marks and his veins didn't stand out. He wouldn't have seemed like such a bad guy if he hadn't been practically drooling over Jenny.  
  
"Hey there, Wildcat," he said, winking at her. Jenny ignored him; Emma was in the process of shaking out her clothes. "Who's this?" he asked, nodding towards me.  
  
"That's Toad," said Emma, shaking one of Jenny's boots. "He's with the Brotherhood."  
  
He took his eyes off of Jenny long enough to formally introduce himself to me. "I'm Cain Marko, the Unstoppable Juggernaut."  
  
"Mortimer Toynbee, the Toad."  
  
"So you're Wildcat's boyfriend!" he turned back to Jenny, "damn, I thought you said he was dead."  
  
"That's what Mystique told me," said Jenny, bitterness in her voice. "That lying bitch."  
  
Emma picked up Jenny's clothes, handing them to her. "There's nothing on them," she said quickly. "Gimme your jewelry." Jenny complied and began the laborious-looking task of getting all her jewelry out; I hadn't noticed before, but she was wearing a hell of a lot. A spiked collar, two matching spiked wrist cuffs, three rings, and four earrings (three in her ears and one in her left nostril) later there was still no sign of any sort of tracking device.  
  
"Fucking shit! Strip again, maybe I missed it."  
  
"Cain, will you get lost?" asked Jenny.  
  
"No way, babe - "  
  
"If you don't get lost, I'll tear your eyes out and ram them so far down your throat you'll need a proctologist to get them out," I snapped. Cain Marko stared at me, then turned and left the room. That bastard had some nerve, eyeing my girlfriend like a sex-toy. Jenny smiled at me, then started to undress again, but stopped.  
  
"Wait, Emma," she said, "where's the bathroom?"  
  
"For Christ's sake, Jenny, we don't have time - "  
  
"Well it isn't on my clothes or jewelry - "  
  
"We don't know that! Maybe I missed it."  
  
"What if it's in my tampon?" All Emma and I could do was stare at her. You could put a tracking device in lots of strange places, but I'd never heard of putting it in a tampon. That was just disgusting.  
  
"Bathroom's down the hall," said Emma, pointing. Jenny turned on her heel and scampered away. She returned about five minutes later.  
  
"Those sick fucks."  
  
"You flushed it?" Jenny nodded. "Good," said Emma, "now get out."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Emma made no reply as Jenny and I left via the front door instead of the fire escape. That turned out to be a mistake; the device had been on (in, rather) Jenny long enough for the X-Men to find Emma's apartment. We were in the process of racing down the stairs when I was informally introduced to the newest X-Man - a blue demon-like German named Nightcrawler. He had one hand pressed against the side of his head, holding a communicating device in place, and was apparently trying to accurately follow orders when we collided. He fell, toppling backwards, and Jenny took a flying leap over him as if he wasn't there at all.  
  
"Vildcat," he called, struggling to regain his balance, "come back. Ve're trying to help you."  
  
"I don't need your help!" shouted Jenny, rounding a corner and disappearing.  
  
Nightcrawler was about to spring after her, which, in retrospect, was not the best move he could've made. The first and only official rule of hand- to-hand combat is never to turn your back on your opponent, which is exactly what he did. I was halfway down a flight of stairs - an awkward position to do a flying kick from - and the leverage is probably what gave me the advantage. I'd aimed for the middle of his back, hoping to maybe dislocate the spine, but at the last minute he moved and I hit him in the side. As he fell, I could hear the faint crack of a rib or two breaking. He looked up at me, muttering in German. I stepped over him and tore off before he could retaliate, though with a few broken ribs I assumed that he was out of the picture.  
  
I heard a shrill zapping sound, followed by an explosion and a scream, and knew that Cyclops had just busted into Emma Frost's apartment. I found Jenny in the lobby, hiding behind a garbage can. Her eyes looked larger and owl-like behind her glasses, and they were darting around frantically.  
  
"There's four of them," she said, pulling me close. I crouched down, squeezing into the shadows beside her. "Nightcrawler, Storm, Cyclops, and Wolverine. We've taken care of Nightcrawler . . . "  
  
"And Cyclops just broke into Emma's apartment."  
  
"I know, Storm's with him. That means Wolverine's out there." Jenny jerked her head sideways, indicating the door.  
  
"Why are they after you?"  
  
Jenny shook her head. "I convinced the Professor that I wanted to join the X-Men, but Mystique . . . " she groaned. "Mystique fucked everything up. The X-Men know I'm with the Brotherhood now, and they're . . . oh God, I don't know what they're gonna do to me." She looked at me, her head tilted to the side. She'd been wearing black eye makeup, and her tears had caused it to run, leaving little grimy trails on her cheeks. I couldn't get over how different she looked. The spikes, the leather, the piercing - she looked tough. She smiled weakly and took my hand. "And you're back," she whispered. "God, Mortimer, I feel so mixed-up inside. I'm so glad you're, you know, not dead. But I just . . . the X-Men were - " she paused, grappling at the right words " - helping me cope. They were . . . they . . . they were almost like a family or something. They were good to me, but - but they kept saying that you'd never cared about me. They kept telling me that you used me and treated me bad and that you weren't worth it." She shook her head. "I never bought it. I just . . . I knew that you'd cared about me and that I mattered to you. Jesus, Mortimer, I'm sorry. I was supposed to avenge you. I failed. I failed you." She looked down, wringing her hands. "You can hit me if you want," she said, her voice a dead whisper. "I deserve it."  
  
There were millions of things that I wanted to say - you didn't fail, I'm not mad at you, you didn't fail me, I love you, Jesus Christ I fucking love you and I'll never hurt you again - but I didn't have time to say them. I'd be able to say them later on, in a more appropriate setting, though. The front door flew open, and Sabertooth entered. Jenny gave a cry of surprise and fear (I think it was mostly surprise, though; we'd been expecting Wolverine), and that gave us away, but the trashcan was between us and Sabertooth, and we were able to use that to our advantage. With Sabertooth tripping over the overturned barrel, Jenny and I were able to dart around him and out the front door.  
  
The Brotherhood was there, as was the Hellfire Club (after all, it was their territory), and they were currently doing battle with the X-Men invaders. I hadn't joined in the fray; I had no one to side with - the X- Men would try to kill me, I hated the Brotherhood, and I was pretty sure that the Hellfire Club would only back me up if I was a member. They were a picky bunch, headed by Emma Frost (or, as she's known to them, the White Queen), the Scarlet Witch, and Quicksilver.  
  
I didn't want to get involved anyway - everything was happening so quickly. The Brotherhood had betrayed me, Jenny was in quasi-shock over seeing me, the X-Men were after me, I was still trying to adjust to the time difference (I was still operating on England-time, and it was driving me insane). I wanted to curl up in a corner and scream, and I'm pretty sure that Jenny wanted to do the same. She was looking around, her head snapping back and forth, her wide eyes taking in all the surrounding violence and carnage.  
  
Amid the flying debris, optic blasts, and projectiles, I saw Storm. She flashed briefly across the sky, her brilliant blue eyes searching the ground for Jenny. Storm was flying too fast, though, and she wasn't looking hard enough. Jenny and I went unnoticed. Jenny turned to me.  
  
"I have a plan," she whispered, "I have a plan to stop this."  
  
"We can just sneak away," I said, "they won't notice - "  
  
"But they'd keep looking for me," she said. She turned away, walking towards a nearby apartment building that was still pretty much intact. She began to climb the fire escape; she did this slowly, as if wanting me to catch up with her, to follow her - which I did. "I'm gonna fake my death," she continued.  
  
"How?"  
  
"I'm gonna jump."  
  
I looked up. The building was fifteen or so stories - there was no way she could jump and live. "It's too high! You won't make it."  
  
She stopped, looking down at me. "Yes, I will," she said quietly, and continued to climb. "Listen," she said, pausing and allowing me to catch up with her, "you see these?" she pointed to the three line-like scars under her left eye. "They're my death scars."  
  
I shook my head. What the bloody hell's a death scar? What did those claw marks have to do with death? I was suddenly aware that I was shaking, and I grabbed her arm. She was scaring me.  
  
"Mortimer," she whispered, touching my hand, "I can't die."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I've died three times. I don't stay dead." She wasn't making sense. She sounded so serious about it, so eerily spookily serious - like a character in a horror film. I gripped her tighter, as though she'd tear her heart out with her own hands if I let go. "I know it doesn't make sense," she said, "but I'm like a cat - I have nine lives or something. Look at this - " and she rolled up one of her sleeves, revealing a series of scars on her inner wrist. They were the kind of scars that only a suicidal razor could create. My breath caught in my throat - their darkness, their permanence . . . oh God, I thought, those were deep enough to kill her. I looked up at her as if seeing her for the first time.  
  
She was a stranger, a stranger I was in love with. I'd never seen such determination and solemn confidence in her. It hit me that maybe she'd hit a turning point in my absence, become a woman or gained a new outlook on life or something. Something inside of her had changed; her usual uncertainty and timidity was gone, completely and totally gone.  
  
She placed her hands on my face, her fingers curling around the back of my head, holding it. She closed her eyes, leaning in close, and kissed me. I wanted that moment to live on forever. There was a serious intensity in her lips, a harsh yet loving feeling that they seemed to embody. It was a mature kiss, a kiss of experience, far different from a blushing sloppy hormone-driven teenage kiss. I found myself unable to move; I just stood there with my hands at my sides, responding to that beautiful kiss. The kiss was over before I wanted it to be over, and Jenny pulled away from me. She was still holding my head, which felt a little awkward, like she was ordering me to step down and let her do her thing, even though I didn't want her to do it. Something inside of me felt compelled to obey her, though, so I kept my mouth shut.  
  
"Wait for me down there," she said, taking my handgun and slipping it into her back pocket. 


	4. And So It Ends

I nodded blankly. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. I wanted to say it more than anything else in the world. But the words stuck in my throat like honey; I choked and gagged on them, but they wouldn't come out. Finally, I gave up and followed her orders. I stood in the alleyway below, hidden from sight behind a dumpster, my eyes never leaving Jenny's slender body.  
  
She was able to make it to the roof unnoticed; the streets below her (which I could not see from where I was standing) were filled with angry members of the Brotherhood, the Hellfire Club, and the X-Men. The battle took to the air once Storm noticed Jenny standing there. I saw Storm rise, hovering above Jenny, her milky white eyes glowing. I shuddered involuntarily. She floated there, suspended in the air, her head tilted the way it always is when she's brewing a storm. She was in the exact same position she'd been in when she nearly killed me back on Liberty Island.  
  
Maybe I'd deserved it, maybe I'd been being a bastard (I had, after all, been trying to kill her), oh hell, I'd been following orders from a lunatic. Nevertheless, she'd fired a jolt of lightning at me, and I'd lost consciousness. When lightning strikes you, it's a bizarre pain-filled experience, sort of like being doused with boiling water or covered in subzero ice. You shake uncontrollably, so much that your teeth rattle and you can't see at all, the world's just a shimmery gray entity. The noise is the absolute worst, right alongside the smell. It's a perpetual, harsh buzzing that fills your head and never fully leaves; I've woken up in the middle of the night with that same endless buzzing in my ears. And the smell - oh God, the smell of your own burning flesh is enough to make you wish you were dead.  
  
For a minute, I thought that Storm was planning on striking Jenny with lightning, but I was mistaken. She wanted to swoop down and grab Jenny and fly her to 'safety' (X headquarters). Jenny, however, was holding an icy metal instrument of cruelty and pain, thus keeping Strom at bay.  
  
"Put the gun down, Jenny."  
  
"No."  
  
"Jenny, we don't want to hurt you."  
  
"I don't want to be an X-Man."  
  
"No one's going to make you be one," said Storm, floating closer, holding out her hands. I thought I heard the dull click of the gun being cocked. The ruckus below Jenny had stopped, all eyes were on her, all necks craned to get a good look at the action. "Jenny," continued Storm, "we want to help you."  
  
"Cool it, weather witch!" There was a brief flash of red as the Scarlet Witch rose, soaring up alongside Storm. "The kid wants to stay with us; she's a member of the Brotherhood."  
  
"And she's always welcome in the Hellfire Club!" shouted Emma, her curvy white-clad body shooting upwards.  
  
"I'm no longer a member of the Brotherhood!" screamed Jenny. Storm advanced, her fear of the gun wearing off too quickly for her own good. "Get away from me!" Jenny aimed and fired, sending a bullet into Storm's shoulder. I heard Storm screech, and she began to fall. Thunder popped and lightning streaked across the sky; I shuddered again.  
  
Much to my surprise, the Scarlet Witch came to Storm's aid. There was a look of horror on her face, horror and disgust. She stared at Jenny, silently asking her why she'd shot one of her fellow mutants. To shoot a human was all right, even acceptable, by her standards, but to fire at a mutant was unforgivable. She stared at Jenny, her muscular arms wrapped firmly around Storm's body.  
  
Emma hovered near them, staring at Jenny, her mouth open. She's witnessed Jenny's transformation, and she was terrified by it. After all, only moments ago Jenny had stumbled into her apartment, shivering and panicky because there was a tracking device on her and now . . . now Jenny was wielding a gun and unafraid to shoot. Emma turned around in midair and returned to the ground, falling like a star.  
  
Jenny cocked the gun again. In all the confusion and fear from down below, no one noticed. I could hear voices rising, asking Storm if she was all right, demanding to know what was up with Jenny, wondering why Jenny had quit the Brotherhood, and if it was true that Mortimer Toynbee, aka the Toad, was alive. All of the questions went unanswered and were silenced by a second shot. Jenny had fired into the crowd, to her left. I could hear a thick twisting scream - not a scream of pain, but one of absolute shock and panic.  
  
"Oh my God . . . "  
  
"An ambulance! We need an ambulance!"  
  
Jenny ignored the crowd's reactions, turning around to face me and letting the gun fall from her hand. For a moment, our eyes made contact. No, Jenny, I wanted to scream, no, don't do this. I couldn't. My mouth wouldn't open, it was as though it had been nailed shut. Jenny closed her eyes and jumped. She fell silently and swiftly. The crowd erupted once more, and Emma darted out from around the side of the building, zooming upwards, trying to catch her. Her efforts, though valiant, failed. Jenny hit the ground with a loud sickening thud.  
  
Emma screamed. She hovered there in midair screaming like a banshee while several other figures rose above her in the air. Magneto was one of them; he was carrying Mystique in his arms, zipping towards the nearest hospital. I couldn't see her very well, but there was blood all over her face. I shook my head; she'd been shot in the head, there wasn't much hope for her.  
  
I knelt by Jenny, scooping her lifeless body up into my arms. There was a small cut on her left cheek, but I ignored it, sliding my fingers along her neck, looking for a pulse. Her neck was smooth, her veins unmoving . . . she was dead. My breath hitched in my throat, and I held her closer, pressing my face against the side of her head. Her hair smelled faintly like soap and Old Spice - she'd been using my shampoo. Oh God, I thought to myself, here's a girl who was really stuck on you and you never told her how much you loved her and now she's dead.  
  
"I love you, Jenny," I said, my words falling on her dead deaf ears, "oh God, I love you." My voice cracked; I must've sounded like a kid hitting puberty. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"Oh my God . . . " I looked up and saw Storm through my tears. She was leaning on the Scarlet Witch, surrounded by the other three unwounded X- Men. "This isn't possible . . . "  
  
"You didn't kill me," I said, choking on the words. "You put me in a coma for three weeks, but you didn't kill me."  
  
"But . . . Jenny, she said - "  
  
"Mystique lied to her. Mystique told her I was dead."  
  
"Mein Gott . . . " Nightcrawler was on his knees beside me, staring at Jenny. His bright yellow eyes were wide with sorrow and shock. He reached out, running his three-fingered hand along Jenny's shoulder as if trying to wake her. He shook his head sadly, finally allowing his hand to drop, then made the Sign of the Cross and bowed his head. I turned away from him, listening to him pray in German, and I felt a slight twitch beneath my finger.  
  
I looked down at Jenny; my fingers were still pressed against the side of her neck, searching for a pulse. I felt the twitch again, that unmistakable twitch of blood flowing through a vein - a pulse. I struggled to hide my surprise - it was hard to do, but the X-Men didn't seem to be paying any attention to me; Nightcrawler was absorbed in prayer, Scarlet Witch had flown Storm off to the hospital, Cyclops was staring down at his hands, and Wolverine hadn't taken his eyes off of Jenny.  
  
"What should we do with her?" he asked suddenly.  
  
Cyclops turned to him, then looked down at me. "We'll bury her," he offered.  
  
I shook my head; she wasn't dead. She'd been right - she was unable to die. She was coming back to life in my arms, I just couldn't tell any of them that, and I couldn't let them hold or touch her. "No," I said, rising with her in my arms, "I'll take her."  
  
"What're you gonna do with her?" asked Wolverine, stepping towards me, snarling.  
  
"Cremate her," I lied, taking a step back. Nightcrawler rose, positioning himself between myself and Wolverine.  
  
"Ve should go and see Storm," he said. "He vill take care of Jenny," he pointed to me.  
  
"OK, come on."  
  
The minute they'd disappeared from sight, I turned and bolted. I was somehow able to find my way back to the Brotherhood's headquarters. Memories of the Red District and its surrounding neighborhoods flooded my mind, guiding me down side streets and through alleyways that shortened the trek home.  
  
Jenny and I were the only ones in the compound, aside from the pyro kid; he was asleep in the kitchen next to an empty coffee mug that was caked in white Valium residue. Bloody stupid fuck, I thought as I darted into my room, closing the door behind me, and laid Jenny down on the bed. She was breathing visibly now, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. I knelt beside the bed, touching the side of her face, staring in wonder as her eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes.  
  
"It worked," she said thickly. All I could do was nod. She smiled. "What now?"  
  
"We're going to England," I said, switching my computer on and pulling my credit card out of my wallet. The plane tickets drained my American bank account, but that didn't matter; I still had an active and lucrative account in England.  
  
"Hopping across the pond?" asked Jenny, faking a British accent. I glanced back at her. She was sitting up, her head tilted to the side, smiling cutely. I couldn't help but laugh. She stood up and stretched.  
  
"We have two hours," I said, looking at the clock. It was going on five a.m., and our flight was scheduled to take off at eight.  
  
"I'll pack." She glided from the room, heading across the hall. I had no real need to pack; Jer was keeping track of all my stuff (not that I had much), but I found myself emptying my vest's pockets and putting on a sweatshirt. Jenny returned moments later carrying a backpack.  
  
"No weapons," I said.  
  
"I know." I nodded. She was staring at me, leaning on the doorframe. "Mortimer?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Did you mean it when you said you loved me?"  
  
I nodded, approaching her. I knelt before her, staring up at her, clinging to her. "I love you so much," I whispered.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I . . . but I failed - "  
  
"No, no you didn't." I felt my grip on her tighten, "you didn't fail, and I'm not going to hit you. I swear, I'll never hurt you again, and I'm sorry for all the times I ever did. I'm so sorry - "  
  
"It's OK - "  
  
"No. No it isn't. Jenny, I love you, and I'm never going to hurt you again. Ever."  
  
She was quiet for a moment, then she tugged me to my feet. We stared at each other. I put my arms around her, holding her close, and she kissed me. It was like the kiss we'd shared on the fire escape earlier that night - serious, loving, meaningful. I would've been content if it had lasted forever, but she pulled away from me all together, picking up her backpack. I threw a glance back at my bed. For a brief instant - an instant even briefer than the kiss - I wanted her. The year I'd spent without her and all the horny perverted desires for her I'd had within that year flashed before my mind's eye. Everything I'd wanted to do with her (and done with Jeremy) . . . I knew that we were on the run, that the rest of the Brotherhood could come back at any given moment, that the pyromaniac could wake up at any given second, and I still wanted to do her. I looked away from her, ashamed, and picked a sweater up off the back of my chair.  
  
"There's something I should tell you," I said, thinking of Jeremy and becoming (much to my embarrassment) hornier.  
  
"Tell me on the plane, OK?"  
  
I nodded, though I wasn't sure if she'd want to come with me if she knew about Jeremy. But dammit, what the hell was I supposed to do? I couldn't leave her here - the Brotherhood would kill her, the X-Men couldn't protect her - she just wasn't safe in the States. But would she want to stay with me after I told her about Jer? What would she think? What would she say? I pondered this, wracking my brain for possible solutions to this problem. I knew plenty of mutants in England - Jer's older brother lived in Kent - or maybe the Ice Gang or the Hellions would take her in if she wanted to join them. By the time the cab got to the airport, I had made up my mind: if Jenny didn't want to stay with me, I'd find a place for her to stay.  
  
We went through the usual airport rigmarole - bring frisked by airport security, weird looks from other passengers, overpriced magazines that we didn't bother buying but looked - in silence. We boarded the plane, sitting side by side in coach. I was silently thanking God that this scheme was working and we were still alive. There was no doubt in my mind that the Brotherhood wanted both our heads; we would only be truly safe in England. The Fire Gang would protect us from them, should they venture across the Atlantic in search of us - that was unlikely, seeing as Magneto had more allies in the States than in Europe.  
  
"What did you want to tell me?" asked Jenny. I took a deep breath, and told her about Jeremy. She listened, staring intently at me, her head tilted towards me.  
  
"If you don't want to be with me, that's all right," I said when I'd finished, "I can find somewhere for you to stay."  
  
Jenny shook her head. "I'll stay with you," she whispered.  
  
"Really?" She nodded. "But I . . . I cheated on you . . . "  
  
"I know." She hugged me, nestling against my shoulder. "But you saved my life tonight, and besides, I think I love you."  
  
I kissed the top of her head, not knowing what else to do or say. I could feel her breathing slow slightly as she nodded off. I felt my own eyelids grow heavy as thoughts continued to swirl around in my head. My sleep was uneasy; I'd only been gone for 24 hours, maybe less, but I wondered if the Fire Gang had moved on. Were they still up near Kent, or did they head somewhere else in my absence? Jenny and I were rudely awakened by a flight attendant some time later. The woman - a brown-haired human by the looks of her - was poking me with a rolled-up newspaper.  
  
"We've landed," she said curtly, "we're in London."  
  
"Thank you," I said, leading Jenny off of the plane and out of the airport.  
  
Before I'd left with Mystique, I'd left my bike with a mutual friend. Her name was Cyndi, and she, like Jer, was 'queer as a three-dollar-bill.' She was an ex-member of the Hellions; a bike accident forced her to quit, but she was still on good terms with all the mutant biker gangs. She wasn't home, but her garage was open, and my bike was still there. She'd left a note on the seat - the Fire Gang would be staying near Kent (where I'd left them) for a week or so, and she herself was visiting an old lover in Manchester. I scribbled a brief note for her before helping Jenny onto the back of the bike and tearing off.  
  
Jenny clung to me, her grip like a vise. She was wearing my helmet; it was too big for her, and covered her head like a bucket. I was pretty sure that Jer had a spare helmet, and if he didn't, then another member of the Fire Gang would. It was very rare that they even wore helmets, but it was not uncommon for them to carry one in their backpacks. I slowed down as I approached the campsite, and the gang looked up at me. They were seated in a circle, divvying up cash from their most recent heist - which must've been last night.  
  
"The Terrible Toad King returns!" called a lean telekinetic fellow named Rick.  
  
"How was America?" asked an Irish lad who's name escaped me but could fly.  
  
"And who's the lady?" asked Jer, grinning. I knew that he knew who it was - Jenny.  
  
"This," I said, parking the bike and helping Jenny down from it. I wrapped my arm around her, and she took the helmet off, shaking her head and looking around with widely curious eyes. "Is Jenny. She's our newest member." I was staring directly at the gang's leader, a tallish blue-eyed gent named David who could lift heavy objects. He nodded.  
  
"Can she fight?" he asked, running his gloved hand through his spiked blonde hair.  
  
"Like a fucking wildcat," said Jenny. She was grinning.  
  
"Finally, a bird with a sense of humor!" said David. "She stays." He turned to the rest of the gang, his hands on his hips, "and she'd Mort's, so keep your hands off her or he'll cut them off . . . and I'll help."  
  
I glanced at Jenny. The threat was really unnecessary; the Fire Gang wasn't as sleazy as some of England's other gangs. Other members had had girlfriends who'd traveled with us on occasion, and, come to think of it, David had given them the exact same rule - if she isn't yours, don't touch her.  
  
Jenny squeezed my hand, resting her head on my shoulder. I looked down at her, feeling whole again. 


	5. Epilogue

"When things get hot chilly down, chilly down with the Fire Gang." ~ David Bowie, "Labyrinth"  
  
Congrats to Crescent Dreamweaver and Athaliar for answering the riddle!  
  
The correct answer was that there's a connection between the title of this story ("Chilly Down") and the name of one of the organizations mentioned in it - The Fire Gang. The said link was the movie "Labyrinth", which everyone should watch because it rocks the house. In this wonderful movie that the eversexy David Bowie is in, there's a musical number called "Chilly Down" and it's sung by a group called The Fire Gang.  
  
Congrats again to those who figured out the answer to the riddle! 


End file.
